Choice one or Choice two?
by LKANENITE
Summary: Lesson one: Thou shalt never agree to answer Chris Jericho's mystery questions.


**Authors Note: Okay, I don't even know with this one. I don't like John Cena. No offense is meant by this, so If you like him and are gonna take offense to this, then DON'T READ IT. I'm on such a Anti Cena phase right now, and I saw the picture of Randy drawing on the Cena poster, my brain went stupid and this was the result. And this is totally how everything plays out in my brain... :| **  


* * *

"Okay my turn." Chris Jericho slouched further into his seat, turning to the girl who was sitting beside him on the plane. "You've got a million dollars and you've got to use it in the most pointless way possible."

"Hmmmm." The 25 year old, brown haired girl scrunched her eyebrows in thought. "I'd pay someone to kidnap John Cena and get him the fuck out of the WWE." She smiled, content with her answer.

"Good choice." Chris Jericho nodded. "But I said pointless."

"You're right." Lana said. "That's actually very much filled with purpose. I'd be doing the universe an incredible favour. I'd be this generation's superhero. Saving the world from boring entertainment and overrated gimmicks. Chuck Norris would have nothing on me. I'm-"

"So humble and caring." Chris Jericho cut her off. "You're practically a modern day saint."

"I know, right?" She agreed loudly, ignoring his sarcasm.

"And people say I'M self absorbed?" Chris muttered to himself. "Whatever. NEXT QUESTION…. Choice one, or choice two?"

"What do you mean choice one or choice two?" The younger girl asked, confused.

"Choice one or choice two?" Chris repeated in the same monotone.

"Uhhhhh, two?" Lana answered, still not understanding.

"Wait here." Chris said, getting up from his airplane seat and walking down the isle.

"Where am I going to go? We're a million feet in the air." She muttered, never the less, she sat back into her seat staring at the back of the seat in front of her, still confused as to what Chris was on about.

* * *

Only minutes later, Chris returned to his seat, sitting down he held out a piece of material towards her.

"What the fuck?" She asked in disgust, as she held the material up to look at it. "You keep this with you all the time?"

"It's not mine." Chris answered simply. "It's yours."

"Um. No." She answered looking at him like he was insane. "It's not mine. I can proudly say I don't own one of these. You see the purpose of these is to wear them. And you'll never in a million years catch me wearing this."

"Ohhhhhh, but that's where you're wrong."

"What the hell are you on? Seriously? Has all that hairspray finally gone in through your ears and eaten away at your brain?"

"Lovely, Lana. That's a real lovely picture you're painting there." He said sarcastically. "You chose choice two." He explained grabbing the material from her hands and holding it up in front of her face. "THIS is choice two."

"Oh." She sighed, understanding him a little more now. "Okay then, no worries. I change my mind. I choose choice one."

"You can't change your mind." He told her.

"Yes I can."

"No you can't."

"Yes. I can."

"No. You can't."

"Yes. I. Can."

"No. You. Can't."

"Yes-"

"NO YOU CANT! JUST SHUT UP AND TAKE THE DAMN SHIRT." Chris yelled loudly throwing the shirt into her lap.

"You can't make me." She said confidently.

"Oh, can't I?" He laughed lowly, shaking his head. "Lana, lana, lana, lana, lana..."

"Stop saying my name like that."

"Do we not remember last time you backed out on one of Chris Jericho's questions?"

"You gave me a choice to make out with either Mike Knox or Miz are you kidding me? Mike's old and disgusting and Miz is a total creep! I'd have to be reaaaaally drunk to have taken that dare, seriously! And even then, you told me the choices before hand! No, there's nooo way I'm wearing that hideous thing."

"Well, you're just going to have to accept the consequences then." He sighed, disappointment clear in his voice.

"What's the consequence?"

"You'll find out."

"Don't say that. Come on, tell me!"

"No."

"Chris!"

"No."

"This is blackmail!"

"Oh, I know."

"I hate you!" She growled, grabbing the shirt and getting up from her seat, as he grinned amused that he had gotten his way.

"You only have to wear it until we get back to the hotel!"

"ONLY? Chris, everyone would have seen it by then so it wouldn't matter!"

"Well if you wanted to wear for the rest of the weekend all you had to do was say so."

"Ugh, I hate you! I'm sitting with Jay for the rest of this flight."

"Fine! But don't try weaselling out of this! No jackets over to hide it. Consequences, remember!"

"Fuck you." She spat out, heading off towards the airplane bathroom the stupid dumb piece of material in her hands.

* * *

Lana huffed angrily as she sat down in the vacant seat next to Jay Reso, her arms folded firmly across her chest, in hopes of hiding the picture on her shirt.

"Hey Lan…" Jay greeted but stopped when he saw what she was wearing. "What are you… why are you…. Are you feeling alright?" Jay asked confused and worried.

"I. Hate. Chris." She spat out slowly.

Nothing more needed to be said, Jay nodded his head in realization.

"Ah, the good old choice game. Well, if it makes you feel better. I chose Choice one."

"What was choice one?"

"I had to go a week without hair gel."

"That's meant to make me feel better?" Lana looked at her older friend in complete disbelief. "Are you kidding? You get something stupid and dumb like that, and I get this. How the fuck is that fair?"

"Hey!" Jay said, offended. "Hair gel is a very important necessity. My hair can be total chaos without it."

"Whatever. Can I borrow your sharpie?"

Jay shrugged as his pulled the black permanent marker out from his pocket and handed it to her.

"Lana!" He said, as he watched her proceed to draw ink on the shirt. "What are you…"

"He said I had to wear it. He never said I couldn't change it a little." She smirked, proudly.

"ATTENTION PASSANGERS PLEASE TAKE YOUR SEATS, THE PLANE IS ABOUT TO LAND."

"Why is she so happy?" Chris said suspiciously, as he watched Lana run happily down the walk way off the plane.

"She may have…" Jay trailed off, "edited your shirt."

"BLAST! Sharpies! I should have known!" Chris cursed himself.

The two boys entered into the baggage claim area where everyone was and immediately noticed Lana happily posing for photos with fans, showing off her shirt.

"Vince is going to be so pissed." Jay said. "WWE's most popular diva taking jabs at WWE's perfect poster boy. Did you think of that?"

"No." Chris answered honestly.

* * *

"You shouldn't have done that." Chris taunted her as they arrived at the arena the next day.

"Well you shouldn't have made me wear the stupid shirt."

"You should have just left it like it was and not been such a baby about it."

"I wasn't being a baby!"

"Were too!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"YOU TWO!!!" A Big loud voice echoed from behind them, catching them off guard. They both turned on their heels slowly, as if maybe he'd be gone by the time they had turned around. No such luck.

"Uhhhhh, heeeey boss!" Chris said nervously.

"What is the meaning of this?" He asked loudly, holding up a photo of Lana and a fan from the airport yesterday.

Lana pointing her fingers towards her black John Cena shirt.

The John Cena shirt that she had drawn on a moustache on. Also, devil horns, a unibrow, blacked out his front tooth and written the words JOHN CENA SUCKS above his face.

"Well, you see… Mr. McMahon, Um. I. Well." Lana stuttered.

"I have one thing to say to you." Vince said sternly, his jaw clenched, his finger out pointing. His sly grin… wait. Grin? "Where can I get that shirt?"

"Uh. What? Come again?" Lana asked, confused.

"WWE. com received an overwhelming response in the forums about that shirt. And you know how important ratings and profits are to me. I need that shirt in WWESHOP as soon as possible."

"Uh, okay. Are you… is this, a joke?" Lana asked, still bewildered. "Isn't John Cena like… kind of important to you in this company?"

"Oh screw John Cena." Vince huffed. "People are getting over him, and they're getting over him fast. I need that shirt made and ready to sell by next week's RAW. Make sure you bring your one to the arena next Monday. I'll have you cut a promo in it."

"Okay… boss…" She said as she watched him walk off down the hallway.

Chris who had been standing silent beside Lana the whole time completely dumbfounded finally spoke up.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" He asked her, implying Vince McMahon had officially gone insane.

"Yeah." Lana nodded. "I'm totally a modern day saint now."

* * *


End file.
